Chapter 26 #2
“Did I tell you about the time I opened Christopher’s hotel room door, when he was over for his sister’s wedding, and Alexander Morgan was standing there?”
Stephen reaches for the tequila shot and knocks it back in one.
Salt and lime be damned.
“No.”
Ryan’s eyes widen and lock with mine. He’s never been one for gossip, but he finally bites into Stephen’s need to discuss this.
I can feel my blood boil. I fidget uncomfortably in my seat.
“So, who’s the top in your relationship then?” I ask, ready to shift the discomfort from me onto them.
Ryan and Stephen share an awkward glance. Stephen has avoided the question any time I’ve asked it on the phone, but now that I’m here, there’s no chance for him to escape.
Stephen, lost for words, grabs my tequila shot and downs it as Ryan goes to speak.
If only that happened more often—Stephen being speechless.
“We’re sides.”
“Sides?”
The confusion must be written across my face as they both share another awkward look. Stephen loves to ride a cock, like a cowboy on a bucking broncho. And Ryan was always the bottom in our relationship.
“You know, we do everything but fuck,” Stephen says in a patronizing tone as he grabs his vodka Diet Coke.
“I know what a side is. I wasn’t born yesterday,” I snap back. “It’s just I’d never had either of you two down as a side.”
Ryan knocks back his tequila shot and finishes his vodka soda as the barman rings the bell for last orders.
“Right, let’s go,” he says, getting up.
I guess that’s the end of that conversation then.
Stephen stumbles as he stands, sending the chair flying backward into the table behind him. He barely manages to save himself from flying with it when Ryan grabs his arm.
Oh lord.
Both Ryan and I shake our heads in unison.
What happened to him? He used to be so good at handling his liquor.
The long walk to get Stephen home is marked by frequent stops, allowing him to puke up the alcohol, along with the kebab he insisted on getting when we left the pub.
The last stretch proves to be too much and he collapses on the curb outside his apartment, puking all over himself. His kebab rests next to him.
“Come on,” I say.
I attempt to lift him up, but fail miserably. He’s deadweight.
Ryan looks back in disgust and crosses the road to Stephen’s apartment, opening the door.
“Stephen, get up,” I say, yanking his arm and almost dragging him across the sidewalk.
Why the fuck do I have to be so kind? Why am I out here helping him out when Ryan is the one responsible for Stephen? I should’ve been back at Kelly’s over an hour ago now. The thought of the blow-up mattress is a lot more desirable now than it was earlier today.
Once we get into the apartment, I pass Stephen to Ryan, telling him to take him to his bedroom while I try and locate a bucket. I head into the kitchen, trying to be quiet so as not to wake Stephen’s housemates.
By the time I find one in the bathroom and head into the bedroom, Stephen’s passed out on the bed. I leave the bucket on the side nearest his head.
“Right, I best leave you both to it,” I say to Ryan and make my way out and back to the front door.
Ryan follows behind and calls out my name.
When I turn, I’m greeted by his lips on mine.
“What are you doing?” I push him off immediately.
“Come on.” Ryan leans back in to kiss me again, pushing me against the wall. The bike handle in the hallway next to us digs into my waist.
The familiar taste of Carmex lines his lips, tingling against mine as they meet, and this time, for some reason, I don’t instantly push him off. Instead, I stand there, paralyzed. His hand slides down to my jeans and stops over my cock.
He pulls back and looks down.
“I knew you still wanted me.”
“Stop it, Ryan,” I say, forcefully removing his hand from my crotch.
“No one needs to know,” he whispers.
My mind races. What’s going on? Stephen’s asleep, less than ten meters away, and his boyfriend—my ex—is making a move on me. Are they in an open relationship? Did Ryan do this with other guys when we were together?
“Stephen is my best friend. That may not mean anything to you, but it means everything to me,” I say, trying to calm my racing heart as I keep my voice low.
“But I don’t want Stephen, I want you.”
He moves forward and I flinch.
Is this the alcohol talking? Or has Ryan felt like this all along? Did he get with Stephen to get back at me for turning him down in June?
“Well, this is never going to happen,” I say and push him away.
The front door can’t open quick enough, and I make it out before Ryan can get to me. I run down the stairs and out onto the street, up to the traffic lights, only stopping once I’m sure he’s not following me.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
I run my hand through my hair as a drunken group of lads wish me a happy Christmas. What the fuck am I going to do? Stephen will kill me if he ever finds out. But I definitely won’t be the one telling him, that’s for sure.
Wednesday
The sound of Christmas music drifting into the bedroom both wakes me up and pisses me off. Kelly’s pitchy voice sings along with Mariah’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Well, all I want for Christmas is a bit of peace and quiet, but it looks like I won’t be getting it.
I’ve barely had four hours sleep, between getting in late, the broken sleep, and the blow-up mattress deflating. Daniel arrives at the door, and I’m relieved to see a mimosa in one hand and an Ibuprofen in the other.
“God, you look rougher than I feel,” he says, passing them over.
“Thanks.” I swallow the pill and wash it down with the mimosa.
I set the glass down and reach for my phone, trying to open it with the face ID, but it fails. God, I really must look rough if it refused to recognize me. I enter my passcode and am immediately greeted by a message from Alexander.
Sk8er Boi
Happy Christmas. Can’t wait to hear what you think of the present.
I don’t know whether it’s the mimosa, the Ibuprofen, or the message, but I instantly feel better, only for the groggy feeling to return when I reach too quickly for the envelope in my bag by the baby cot. The sudden motion triggers a surge of nausea, and vomit rises in my throat.
I throw the envelope on the floor and cover my mouth. I breath in deeply twice to swallow the vomit back down.
“You gonna come join us? Kelly’s getting frustrated at having to wait to open her presents.” David rolls his eyes.
Kelly was always the one to wake us up first thing in the morning when we were kids.
I’d always run down the stairs and checked to see whether the mince pies were gone from the mantlepiece first. But Kelly would rush to the presents under the tree, unwrapping them with brute force, determined to find out if she’d been a good girl and gotten what she’d written to Santa for.
I get up, grab the empty glass, and slowly make my way to the kitchen.
“Finally,” Kelly says, leaning over the oven to check on the turkey, a baster in hand.
“Jesus. It’s barely seven thirty,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
“I’ve been waiting since six a.m. for you fuckers to get up.”
Kelly closes the oven door and waves the baster at us. I want to say something, but Daniel shoots me a knowing glance and I think better of it. She’s not one to mess with when it comes to Christmas Day and tradition.
By the time I’ve quickly made and downed another mimosa and scarfed back a couple of the salmon parcels left on the side, I start to feel more human and ready to face the day.
“Shall we open the presents then?” I say, knowing it will diffuse Kelly’s emotions.
I don’t have to ask her twice. Kelly is already in the lounge and under the black and gold ball-adorned Christmas tree, grabbing her presents, before Daniel and I can make our way in. She throws each of us a present as she sits down on the couch and opens her first gift.
“Thank you, baby,” Kelly says, holding up the Cartier watch for me to see before putting it on her arm. I sit down on the couch beside her as she starts to open the present I got for her.
Daniel and I hold off opening our own gifts, knowing the roles we play in this annual tradition.
“Oh my God!” Kelly screams, opening the box to reveal the diamond heart-shaped necklace and earrings that I had only just managed to afford, with the help of the one hundred thousand dollars still sitting in my bank from June.
“Baby, can you put it on for me?” she asks, waving at Daniel, who’s standing at the fireplace. Daniel cuts me a look as he heads toward Kelly.
“Jesus, bro. Did you have to upstage me?”
He really doesn’t want me to answer that question.
Kelly hands Daniel the necklace and lifts her hair up. Daniel struggles with the latch before finally locking it on. Kelly lets her brown hair fall back down over her elf T-shirt, then gets up and heads to the mirror.
“It looks beautiful, thank you.” She comes back and hugs me.
“Don’t get used to it, next year it will be lumps of coal,” I laugh.
“Fuck off.” Kelly shoves me and I fall further back into the couch.
I grab my present and open it up, revealing a navy Ralph Lauren jumper with the American flag stitched across it. I throw it on over my green mini-reindeer pajama top.
“We thought it was apt, now that an American has your heart,” Daniel says, kicking my shin with his foot.
“Have you heard from him?” Kelly asks, opening another one of her presents.
“Yeah, he texted an hour ago, which reminds me. I must get that envelope.”
I get up and head back to the nursery, picking up my phone and the envelope next to the cot. I return to the living room and open it as Daniel and Kelly dig into opening their smaller presents.
My jaw widens in a state of disbelief when I read what’s on the paper inside.
“What is it?” Kelly asks. I hand it over.
“Holy fuck,” she says and passes it to Daniel. His eyes also widen as he reads down the page like the lawyer he is and flicks over to the back.
“You better get a move on,” he says, handing it back to me.
Alexander wasn’t kidding when he said I would say no to this present if I said no to the Tiffany ring. It feels like too much. Plus being here is our annual tradition, and I don’t get to see my sister half as much as I’d like to, even if that means having to tolerate our mother.
“But I can’t. It’d mean missing Christmas lunch with you all.” Every inch of my body wants to run back to my room, pack my bags, and jump into a taxi. “What would mum say?”
“Fuck mum. Go be with him. In fact, call him right now. See if he can get two more tickets.” Kelly reaches for my phone, but I stop her.
“Yeah right. Like I’m gonna bring you two with me.”
I dial Alexander, but it goes to voicemail and I hang up.
I read the paper one more time and realize that he’s likely in the air right now.
I settle for texting him instead, thanking him for the gift, telling him that I accept, and I’ll see him in twenty-four hours, before Kelly and Daniel encourage me to get packing.
Seeing out the rest of the year in the Philippines.
What is my life?